Skin Deep
by Monster Mads
Summary: When Wolf takes a walk at three A.M. on a Tuesday night, the last person he expects to stumble upon is Alex - especially when the kid's drunk out of his mind. No pairings.


**Skin Deep**

By Monster Mads

It was pure chance that Wolf found him.

He was sitting on the edge of the curb in a most cliché fashion, a bottle of alcohol gripped loosely in his hand. Lifting it up, he threw back his head and chugged, some of the liquid spilling out of the corner of his lips. He began coughing right after, rubbing his throat and staring down at the pavement. In the darkness of the night, anyone who didn't pass right by him wouldn't have even noticed his presence. The dark hoodie enveloping him mostly took care of that, and the hood kept his golden hair out of sight.

Another man had no real reason to be out at three a.m. on a Tuesday night, especially not in this part of town. He carried nothing with him but a yearning for the fresh air of the dark night, and weary tiredness that sleep refused to take from him. His doctor had given him a new brand of pills this week, but it had proved ineffective like the last two and the doctor was on vacation for the rest of the week. Maybe he'd go to the drug store tomorrow – or perhaps he'd have to self-medicate again.

_Speaking of self-medicating…_ he thought, his eyes drifting over to the hooded figure sitting on the curb a couple feet away from him. The light of the streetlamp above him bounced off the glass clutched in his left hand, illuminating the amber contents. His footsteps slowed as his dark eyes settled upon the figure. A little on the small side, wasn't he?

At that moment, the person turned his head, brown eyes hitting black squarely. They were hazy and unfocused, red-rimmed and almost inhuman with misery. In fact, it took him a couple seconds to place him.

"Holy shit," he muttered when it finally came to him, "… Cub? Cub from Brecons Beacons?"

Those eyes stared on for a second before a harsh laugh escaped him. He turned away from the man, taking another gulp of the drink in his hand. "Yeah."

The confirmation was cynical and ironical, different from anything he'd ever heard from a teenager. But wait–

"What the hell are you doing here? And – where'd you get that?"

Alex's eyes slowly traveled back down from Wolf's looming figure to the alcohol.

"I raided daddy's liquor cabinet," Alex responded scathingly, his eyes roaming over the bottle held loosely between his knees from where his arm was rested.

"Well… whatever, we need to get you home," Wolf mumbled, stepping forward. He didn't know why Alex was here – hell, he hadn't seen the kid since Point Blanc – but he wasn't about to leave him alone in the streets at this time of night. Alex stood up, swaying and stumbling back a couple steps onto the street. A lopsided smile crossed his face.

"Home?" he repeated, "Like, where the heart is? I don't have a home."

"Whatever you say, Cub," Wolf sighed, stepping forward, "What's your street address? I'll take you back to your house."

"I don't want to go back," Alex spat, turning away from Wolf and looking up at the moon, his hood slipping off his head and revealing unruly gold locks that had grown a little longer since Wolf had last seen them. Wolf rubbed his forehead, walking towards the blonde standing in the street and reaching for his wrist.

"Well, that's too bad. Now, can you tell me where you live already?"

Alex slipped out of his reach, eyes flashing dangerously. "Leave me alone, Wolf."

"Cub–" He was drunk, that much was obvious. Trashed out of his mind, in fact. Of course he wasn't going to tell Wolf anything. Why he was here or the reason to which he felt the need to drown himself in booze was unknown to Wolf, but he was positive he wasn't going to get answers tonight. He couldn't just leave him here, though.

_I'm gonna regret this later, _he thought before saying, "Alright, whatever. I'll take you back to my house then. But first thing tomorrow and I'm calling your parents, alright?"

"Parents…" Alex mumbled the word before dropping the bottle. It shattered upon impact with the ground. His hands now free, Alex reached up and covered his face with them. "You _can't_ call them."

"You haven't given me much choice, Cub. It's a Tuesday night! They're probably worried sick. Come on," he finally managed to get a grip on Alex's evasive arm, pulling him back over to the sidewalk.

"They're not worried sick," Alex said, "nobody's worried about me."

"You're drunk," Wolf responded, dragging him down the road. It was about a fifteen minute walk back to his house – he could handle a little drunken babbling till then.

"Yeah," Alex agreed, his speech expectantly slurred, "it sucks."

"Then why'd you do it?" Wolf asked, glancing back at the teen. His chocolate eyes were fixed on the sidewalk, heavily lidded with a world-weary regret that Wolf couldn't even begin to comprehend. Alex shrugged.

"Thought it would help."

Wolf laughed a little, thinking about his own life in the SAS. When Fox had been shot, it had kept him awake for weeks thereafter, even though the man had been fine and recovered even faster than the doctors anticipated. The _what if's_ plagued him endlessly, drawing him farther and farther away from the world of sleep. Why those problems had returned now was a mystery to him, though.

"Help with what?"

"The pain," Alex replied, biting his lip. He'd heard of it – drowning one's sorrows. It had to be somewhat effective – why else would people destroy their lives for it?

"What, you injured somewhere?"

"Not that," Alex said, "the other kind of pain."

"Teenage angst," Wolf sighed, "I remember it well. You'll get over it, Cub. Though this was pretty stupid, even for a kid. Drinking is the coward's way out."

God knew he'd been tempted many times before to just pick up a bottle and let everything wash away with the alcohol. All the stress of keeping his team alive and completing each mission successfully. Saving and protecting lives was no easy business, that was for sure. Maybe that was why he couldn't leave Alex alone. It was encoded within him to preserve what life he could.

"I know I'm a coward," Alex laughed humorlessly, his words slurring a little, "I was too cowardly to tell them no, time after time after time. And now… I don't know. The alcohol… It just seemed like a good idea at the time."

Wolf puzzled over that. Too cowardly to tell _who_ know? Maybe he was being bullied at school? Pressured? Whatever school he attended now, that was. Seeing him snowboard down a mountain on an ironing board from his last school told him that things couldn't be going all too well in that department. That and the whole business where Wolf had taken a bullet… but that had been months ago, and he still didn't really know what to make of it. His superiors had cleared things up rather smoothly, of course. Wolf had just always been a bit of a skeptic.

He decided to voice his questions.

"Trouble at school?"

Alex shook his head. "No… yes… it's nothing new. The same old 'Alex Rider is a druggie campaign'… I'm used to it."

"You do drugs?" Whatever problems the kid had, Wolf felt a little bit of his respect for him slide. Alcohol was one thing, drugs were quite another. Especially seeing that he didn't seem to like drinking all that much – it appeared this was his first time drinking, anyway. And yet he'd already experimented with drugs?

"No," Alex said, "they just think that, 'cause I'm absent so much."

"Well, maybe you shouldn't be absent so much."

Alex stumbled a little, reaching out to Wolf to steady himself. After a moment, he began walking again. "Maybe."

Wolf stopped talking for a little bit after this, and the two walked on in silence towards Wolf's home. Alex could barely move in a straight line, his legs wobbly and unbalanced. A couple times his hand would sneak over to Wolf's arm and his fingers would curl into the fabric of his jacket, but Wolf didn't say anything. Alex needed the support at that moment – physically and mentally.

The silence had begun to stretch on when Wolf broke it, his curiosity getting the better of him. He'd realized that if he didn't find anything out now, he wasn't ever going to know – Alex would surely keep silent the following day.

"So what's the problem, Cub? I mean, I could try to help."

Alex's eyes met with his, once more giving Wolf a peek at the strength of the despair lying in the chocolate depths. Suddenly, the proposal he'd just made sounded really, really stupid.

"You can't help me," Alex answered after a moment, his eyes falling once more down to his shoes, which he was working to keep from stepping on each other. He didn't want to trip again – that was why he continued to clutch Wolf's arm. Yeah.

"Are… are you sure? I mean, if someone's bothering you, the SAS are pretty good at kicking ass. I could even call in K-unit…"

He wasn't sure what it was about Alex now. Maybe because all through his training at Brecons Beacons, the kid had held his head high and barreled through all of the exercises given to him, never tattling on K-unit for their cruelty or showing any kind of hurt or discomfort at their treatment of him. That was the image Wolf had of Alex in his head – strong and confident and ready to take on anything. The Alex next to him now, wasted and barely holding on for dear life was nearly unrecognizable. He wanted him to go back to the old Alex, even if he'd pissed him off a little. This fourteen-year-old couldn't possibly have any problems that would require the help of a trained SAS unit, there no was chance. He still felt like he needed to make the offer, though, if only for the peace of mind it gave him.

To this, Alex merely gazed down at the pavement, his expression unchanging. When he spoke, his voice was heavy, cracking near the end.

"I don't need any more destruction."

The words startled Wolf into looking down, but at some point in time Alex's hair had fallen into his eyes, casting shadows down onto his face and making it more difficult to read. Wolf cleared his throat, not sure how to take those odd words. They were daunting and alien in their context. What the _hell _did he mean by _that?_

"… Is it… financial trouble?"

He couldn't imagine that – the kid had to be loaded, didn't he? After all, Wolf was under the impression that Alex's father had paid his child's way into the rough, calloused hands of the Brecon Beacons training facility. So at this point, he was grasping at straws and hoping he wasn't going to get any more riddles for answers.

Alex stopped in his tracks, his head still bowed and facing the concrete. Wolf's house was at the end of this road, so he didn't rush the kid to move along or anything. He just waited, and after a couple seconds of tense quiet, a soft whimper was heard. Wolf flinched at the sound, his eyes catching a glimmer of light from below just in time to see something darken the sidewalk. Tears… Alex was crying?

This time, it was a sob, but Alex's arms remained at his sides, unmoving. Wolf moved towards him, kneeling in order to finally get a better look at Alex. He hastily placed a hand on the boy's shoulder, unsure of what to do. Crying children were not his forte – armed terrorists were.

Alex lifted his head a little, biting his lip to try and keep any more sounds from emerging. Then he raised one arm and used the back of his sleeve to wipe his eyes, averting his gaze from Wolf's. Despite his efforts, another sob still escaped him. Wolf's paternal instincts finally seemed to kick in, and with his other hand he pulled Alex toward him in an embrace. At first, Alex didn't respond, a hiccup of surprise sounding in Wolf's shoulder, but it wasn't long after that that he finally let loose and began crying, burying his face into Wolf's chest. His hands clasped the fabric of his sweater tightly, desperately even, and then he began talking, words mingled with tears and hiccups.

"… I – I … never meant for anyone to get hurt," he cried, "I was trying to _protect _her, all those times I said yes."

None of it made any sense to Wolf, but he listened anyway, his eyes closing against the harsh streetlights that fell upon the sidewalk across the street.

"And now I'm all alone and you've got to deal with me 'cause I was stupid, so so stupid, I just never learn, I'm a total idiot…"

The words were dripping self-loathing, each one a stab at Alex's worth. Wolf still refrained from saying a word as the blonde continued his tirade.

"I know I should just let go and go home and never speak to you again, because first it was my parents and then Ian and now J-Jack and I'm finally realizing it, that…"

A harsh sob broke into the revelation, and Wolf felt his heart ache at the broken words,

"… anyone who tries to help me, anyone who gets too close, they – they're just gonna leave me alone again eventually_…"_

Wolf's eyes snapped open, wide and unseeing. This was so much more than he'd imagined. Abandonment issues? Perhaps that was what Alex meant when he said he couldn't go home. Ian and Jack… friends, maybe? And his parents… could Alex have been adopted?

"Wolf, you gotta – you gotta keep away from me, okay? I don't want you… I don't want to get you killed, too…"

And with those words, all of Wolf's theories flew out the window. When he'd said "leave", he hadn't meant it in the literal sense. Then his parents, and Ian and Jack… oh God, he couldn't be drinking because his friend had just died, could he?

"… Cub, no…"

Wolf's grip on the smaller frame tightened, drawing a tiny intake of breath from the blonde he was hugging. He was like a lost puppy, alone against the world with everyone he'd loved taken from him. Wolf felt like he was going to be sick.

"I'm not going to leave you," Wolf muttered into Alex's hair, knowing his words were nothing more than sweet nothings, "I'm not going to die, okay? Come on… we're going home."

Wolf took Alex by the arm and pulled him towards his house, opening the unlocked door and stepping into the darkness. Alex was sniffling softly by his side, still too miserable to feel embarrassed at his actions. Following Wolf, they arrived in the living room, Wolf flicking on the light above the fireplace so they could see where they were going.

"I–" Wolf rubbed the back of his head, looking over to the plush leather couch, "I don't have a spare bedroom, so you're stuck with the couch tonight. Is that okay?"

Alex blearily looked up at Wolf, startling the man with the strength of that gaze yet again. He tried to say something, paused, and then whispered, "It's fine."

He stumbled over to the couch, collapsing on his side and facing away from Wolf. Alex curled up, once again drawing the image of a puppy to the forefront of Wolf's mind before giving one last sniffle and falling silent. Wolf hesitated in the doorway, unwilling to leave the kid now.

"Are you sure you'll be alright?"

He received no response, and upon closer inspection, Wolf found that Alex had already fallen fast asleep. His gaze lingered on the tracks running down his flushed cheeks, and on his small stature – he was too young to need to try and drown his sorrows. His quiet breathing had evened out to minimal disruption from hiccups, while his sleeping face portrayed much more peace than his open eyes did. In fact, it was almost a relief to see him like that, so calm and relaxed. That was how he should _always_ look.

Wolf trudged upstairs and fell into his bed, the soft covers soothing his frazzled nerves. Wolf didn't have any kids of his own, but despite knowing he'd done next to nothing for the boy other than offer him a minimal amount of comfort and allow him to sleep over, he felt… content. There was a glimmer of warmth that came from helping the blonde, one he rarely experienced. Holding open doors, helping the elderly, the classic "good deeds" didn't do much for the solider.

It made him wonder why he suddenly felt like a better person.

It didn't take Wolf long to fall asleep that night.

The next morning, Wolf awoke to the smell of something delicious. He rolled over under the covers, relishing in the comfortable feeling that came with just waking up, his mind still hazy. While his vision slowly began to focus, Wolf started to take in the sunlight flowing through his window and the time on his alarm clock – seven-thirty A.M. What day was it? He was on leave, wasn't that right? And what the hell was that incredibly enticing smell?

_I feel like I'm forgetting something._

Golden-hair and shattered brown eyes flitted through his mind, jolting him awake. He sat up, breathing hard and glancing down. Still in his clothes from yesterday night – well, that made sense. Then that smell… was Alex _cooking?_

He pushed his way off the bed and immediately left the room, moving into the hallway and down the stairs. When he reached the kitchen, his suspicions were confirmed – Alex was frying bacon and eggs on the stove, the meal calling out to him like hot pizza on a Friday night. Wolf stood awkwardly in the doorway, gawking at the scene. For God's sake, hadn't the kid been in tears the previous night?

"Uh," Wolf began uncertainly, prompting Alex to look up from where he was reaching for an eggshell, "sleep well, Martha Stuart?"

"You have an unnaturally comfortable couch," Alex confirmed with a dazzling smile as he turned to throw away the eggshell. "I hope you're hungry."

"_Hell_ yeah," Wolf replied, temporarily forgetting about the bizarreness of situation, "I barely ever cook shit anymore, just order in. Either that or it's the instant stuff – long as it takes under ten minutes and I'm good."

Behind the counter of the island he was cooking on, Alex's hands twitched. "Is that so?"

"Well, I was never much of a cook, anyway."

Wolf moved into the kitchen and pulled out two plates from the top shelf next to the sink, placing them down gently on the granite countertops. Then he began rounding up knives and forks.

"You cook a lot?" he asked just for something to fill the silence, and Alex shrugged.

"Not really. I just know the basics, I guess."

Wolf resisted the urge to give into the shame that came with knowing his cooking skills didn't even measure up to a fourteen-year-old's perception of "the basics". He decided to wait until they were sitting down before moving on to anything other than small talk.

"What, you don't like cooking?"

"It's not that. Cooking was just… never an issue until now."

Screw waiting. Wolf peered down at Alex curiously, towering a foot over the kid easily. "Until now?"

"The eggs are done," Alex promptly changed the subject, "unless you like scrambled? Personally, I'm a sunny side up kind of guy."

"Well, my preference would be poached, but it's a little late for that now."

"Oh, please."

"We could do hardboiled." Wolf suggested brightly.

"For breakfast?" Alex inquired incredulously. Wolf shot him a grin.

"Kidding. It's all good. When you live like I do, you come to find your only real preference is edibility."

"That's a big word for an SAS grunt," Alex teased. Wolf cuffed him over the head before grabbing his plate and heading left towards the table. The window was open, providing a soft, cool breeze into the room. Wolf wasn't a huge fan of the springtime, but this he could learn to get used to.

Two of the four chairs at the table were left unoccupied once Wolf and Alex had sat down, tactfully opposite of each other. The first couple of seconds were filled with grateful chewing and the messy table manners of two hungry boys, until Wolf finally chose to break the ice.

"So, I don't know what exactly happened last night, but if there's something going on… I mean, that couch _is_ pretty comfy, so if you need somewhere to crash, you know…"

Alex briefly smiled before glancing back down at his food. "Can we just forget last night? I'm actually pretty embarrassed about it."

Wolf stared. "Embarrassed? What, 'cause you cried? Whatever, kid. You should see Eagle when he's drunk. He could flood that kitchen in five minutes, tops."

Alex laughed, and Wolf could swear it _sounded_ genuine enough. "K-unit… how are they doing, anyway?"

"They're good," he returned before amending, "_we're_ good. Fox disappeared for a bit on business – he told us it was MI6, and wouldn't say anything more. He's back now, though. We're on leave 'cause Snake broke his leg."

"He fall down the stairs or something?" Alex asked innocently, and it was Wolf's turn to laugh.

"Let's go with that," he replied, biting into a warm piece of bacon. It was heavenly, but Wolf couldn't tell if it was Alex's skill or bacon's naturally divine qualities that made it that way.

"How long are you on leave for?"

"Till the end of the month," said Wolf. "I could give you a key if you'd need to use the couch again while I'm gone, though. God knows I'm used to it… bloody unit…"

Alex was at a loss for the moment. "You'd let me stay here while you were gone?"

"I just said that, didn't I?"

"Yeah… but you barely even know me. Is it because I'm… uh, Cub?"

"You mean because you're part of the unit?" Wolf popped a piece of bacon into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully before swallowing. "No. It's 'cause you're a kid. And 'cause you're alright."

Alex's eyes fell down to the tablecloth, gluing themselves there until Wolf drew them back up with his next words.

"So, you gonna need a key, or what?"

Alex seemed to internally debate taking Wolf up on his offer before ultimately shaking his head. "… No. I really appreciate the offer, but I couldn't do that."

Wolf gazed at him, trying to dissect the emotions swirling around between those troubled brown eyes. "Why not?"

"I've got my own place," Alex said, "I don't need the help. Yesterday was a onetime thing, really. I learned my lesson. But thanks."

"You don't go on that kind of bender for nothing, Cub," Wolf responded. "Wanna tell me what that was really about?" He thought back to those haunting words – _"I don't need any more destruction._" The refusal also reminded him of what Alex had said once the dam had broken: _"you gotta keep away from me, okay?"_

In fact, now that Wolf thought about it, of course Alex would turn down the offer. He decided at that moment to push it a little more, realizing it wasn't that Alex didn't _need_ help – he just didn't want it. Or felt that he didn't deserve it, perhaps.

"Peer pressure," Alex informed Wolf, "you know?"

"No," Wolf disagreed, "I don't. You're not so stupid you'd go out and get shitfaced cause some punk ass kids told you it was cool. Besides, the stuff you said last night…"

Something flashed in Alex's eyes, quicker than a lightning bolt before it was gone. "I was drunk. I don't even remember have the stuff I said last night."

He had the hangover to prove it, too. The headache was a bitch.

"Cub…" Wolf's voice softened, "is it something you want to talk about?"

"There's nothing to talk about," Alex told him, shaking his head with a surprised look on his face. It was incredibly convincing. "Like I said, onetime thing. Don't worry about me."

"Are you–" Wolf rubbed his jaw. He really wasn't cut out for this kind of thing. "Are you sure? I mean, in my line of work… I think I could kind of understand, you know? I mean death…"

"Whoa, whoa," Alex exclaimed, holding up his hands, "who said anything about _death?"_

"You did," Wolf accused, "last night."

Alex's expression slowly gave way to an understanding smile. "Is _that_ what's got you acting like you're walking on broken glass? Wolf, I'm going to say this one more time: _I was drunk_. Actually, I was supposed to meet up with a bunch of friends, but they blew me off, so I was kind of bummed. Jesus, what did _you_ think had happened?"

Wolf's outlook swayed at the argument. Oh, he wanted to believe it. It sounded so innocent, put like that. It would just be so easy to chalk it up to drunken babblings, wouldn't it? All that kept him from giving in right then and there was the image of Alex's deadened eyes when he'd first glanced up from under that streetlight, his lopsided grin a twisted mockery of happiness forgotten.

"I know what I saw, Cub," Wolf said, resolute, "you're not fooling anyone."

"I'm not trying to fool you," Alex snorted, "man, if you want to believe I'm that screwed up, whatever. What did I _say_ to you last night?"

"You said…" Wolf began, before breaking off. He didn't want to go down that road again. "It doesn't matter what you said. What I really need to know is – are you really okay? _Really?_ Don't lie to me, Cub. I swear, all I want to do is help you, and if you keep trying to hold it all in and take it upon yourself, it's just going to get worse. You're not protecting me by doing this, or anything. All you're doing is hurting yourself."

Alex leaned back and crossed his arms, the picture of an impatient teenager waiting for the lecture to finish already. Wolf sucked in another breath and continued,

"It all sounds old to you, I'm sure. But everyone had their problems, and everyone needs help. Please, kid… can you look me in the eyes and tell me honestly that you're okay? Perfectly okay?"

Alex raised an eyebrow.

"If you can do that, I'll leave you alone."

That was his mistake.

Everyone underestimated Alex Rider.

Deliberately, purposefully, Alex leaned forward until his face was less than a foot from Wolf's. He placed both hands on to table and gazed deep into the dark depths, his brown eyes carefully blank. Then, he said slowly,

"I… am… fine."

He fell back into his chair, lifting his hand and touching his index finger to his thumb.

"_Perfectly okay._"

With one last smile, Alex broke the tension with a light laugh.

"Who knew you could be so intense, Wolf? Maybe you should become a shrink. Give help to people who actually need it." And then, with a groan, Alex rubbed his forehead and muttered,

"… swear to God, I'll never drink again. Anyway, thanks again for letting me stay the night, Wolf, but it's Wednesday and I've got school in like, twenty minutes."

Wolf's mouth was still open in slight shock. His technique had been completely thwarted by this teenager. Shaking himself a little, he blinked and hastily waved him off,

"Oh, uh, of course. Do you… want a ride?"

"I can catch the tube – it's closer to here than it is to my house." He stood up and swiped both of their plates, moving swiftly through the kitchen and placing them in the dishwasher. Then he moved over to the archway that led to the front door, pausing to shoot Wolf one last appreciative grin.

"I'll see you around, Wolf."

A couple seconds later and the sound of the door shutting hit Wolf's ears, but the man had yet to get up. When he finally spoke, it was a quiet mutter of,

"No you won't."

The parting had seemed pretty smooth, all in all. No gooey goodbyes or lingering around the door or anything. Something just didn't feel right about the whole thing, though. Could Wolf have just taken all of it way too seriously? Had it really all just been drunken nonsense? Alex had played the whole thing off so flawlessly – was it even _possible_ for a teenager to be that good of a liar?

Standing up, Wolf wandered back upstairs, scratching his head. Drunks did have the tendency to make stuff up, true; it had all seemed very vivid. The tears, the confessions, the words filled with self-loathing and recrimination… vodka couldn't conjure up that kind of emotion. It just couldn't.

… Could it?

Utter wrongness permeated from the entire memory of that night. Maybe Alex was just that kind of drunk, though. If that was the case, Wolf felt like a bit of an idiot for overreacting that much. The disturbing notion of Alex Rider's tragic life slowly faded from Wolf's mind as he stepped into the shower, now fairly confident that everything had just been blown out of proportion.

Even with the decided factor that things weren't as bad for the kid as they'd sounded last night, though…

He had a feeling he wouldn't be seeing Alex Rider again for a while.

* * *

o0o0o0o

I don't know if anyone else gets this image, but every time I think of Wolf and Alex I think of that old Bugs Bunny short, Feed the Kitty – with the little black and white kitten and that big bulldog, Marc Antony? Hehe x3 (Except, you know, that comparison makes absolutely _no_ sense).

I actually had a slightly different ending planned for this story, and struggled big time on which one I was going to use. I ended up choosing this one because it has a bit more personal meaning to me than the other, so I hope nobody minds that it's not super fluffy! In fact, I think it's better this way. It fits the mood a little more. Oh, and just in case anyone didn't get it, the real reason Alex had gotten wasted that night was because Jack had died. Just my perception of how he might take it, I suppose.

So, make what you will of that ending (I have a good idea of exactly where it goes, but I don't want to throw it in there and destroy any other taken theories that come from it), but more than that, I hope you enjoyed. Please review, it's all I get for critique and I'd really like to grow as a writer.

I was listening to this song near the end of the fic, Sideways, by Citizen Cope. And I almost named the story after it, but then I didn't. Anyway, check it out, it's pretty moving.

Thanks for reading!


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